


For The Love of Smuppets

by Bettername



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Incest, M/M, Smuppets, Stridercest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:44:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bettername/pseuds/Bettername
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider finds one of Bro's "modified" smuppets and decides to make sweet sweet ironic love to it. However, fortunately or unfortunately for our teenage protagonist, he gets caught smuppet handed.  </p><p>	You stroll into your bedroom and close the door. A low chuckle escapes your lips as you stare down at the smuppet clutched in your hand. You look into its beady little eyes.<br/>“Do you feel lucky? Well, do yah, Smuppet? You might not feel lucky smuppet but you’re gonna get lucky.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	For The Love of Smuppets

-Enter Name

-Irritable Prick

\- He is not amused. He just isn’t in the mood for such uncalled for frivolity. Try again.

-Enter Name

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you are one hell of an irate little fucker at the moment. You have been staring at the cracks in the plaster of your ceiling for the past half hour. At this point you are damn confident that you would make a master cartographer, you have each branch and crevice of every single crack in the great off white expanse memorized. Do you have a map making fetish? The answer is a resounding no. You usually pass your time stretching your musical genius by constructing new wicked beats. During the warmer months when you can drag yourself out from in front of the air conditioner you add to your vast insect collection. Insect collecting isn’t ironic. Just look at those shiny green carapaces, see the Technicolor glory of the six legged wonders of the world all lined up, labeled and pinned down on mats. Well enough about that, now back to the latest incident to draw your ever increasing ire. Bro’s music.

It’s downright shocking isn’t it? Bro lays down the sickest beats imaginable. His music can slay any club crowd that he spins for. His pure righteous talent is one of just many reasons why you hero worship him to this day. But the music emanating from his room for the past hour is just wrong. You clench your jaws shut and try to focus all of your attention on the pressure of your teeth grind against each other feeling the friction as the calcium glaciers slid past each other in the sea of your saliva. The exercise isn’t working; all of your senses are focused on the unholy cacophony issuing out from the other side of the wall. You have two options. Option one go to the kitchen, take one of the myriad of sharp and or pointy objects. Once that item was acquired you would then proceed to forcefully jab it into your ear. Sure it would render you permently deaf but hey it would be worth it. The second option would be to go over to your bro’s room and ask him to turn the music down. You strongly consider both options thoroughly, before deciding that sustaining bodily injuring from your brother during the guaranteed ensuing strife was much more acceptable than anything self inflicted. You ooze off of your bed and pad over to your bro’s room. 

A beam of light shines out of the crevice underneath the door. You knock on the door. The force of said knock causes the door to squeak open a sliver. The creaking hinges remind you of every B rated slasher movie that you’ve ever been subjected to. You are that character standing in front of the door that should not be opened that leads to the room that should not be entered. You are about to encroach into your brother’s domain. If this was one of those two bit horror flicks that audience would be yelling at the screen for you to turn away now. There is nothing good to be found encased in those four walls. But the music beckons to you like a siren that just downed a whole balloon full of helium. You shake off your apprehensions and gingerly push the door. It swings open.

The light is on but nobodies home. Your eyes sweep the room. It’s empty. You turn your attention to the object of your vexation. The computer haughtily stares back at you. What got a problem? You bet your metallic boxy ass I do, you think as you return the glare. Just a few more feet and you will be able to silence this infernal inanimate creature. You lift up one foot to take a step into your bro’s room but you hesitate. There are few house rules that your brother has established but one major rule stands out. You do not touch your bro’s stuff. You just don’t do it. A few years back you went through a rebellious phase; you went into your bro’s room and touched a few of his CDs just to see if he would notice. You took pictures of said CDs at multiple angles before you moved them and used those photos as a reference when you replaced the sacred objects. After all that trouble, your brother still caught you. He just knew. It was if he was omnipotent. You still remember the lesson that he taught you because of that incident to this day. 

However, all you had to do was turn the volume down. Sounds simple right? Just move the mouse over to the toolbar click on the volume and drag the bar down. But before enacting plan stop my ears from bleeding you have to do some reconnaissance. Just because bro wasn’t in his room doesn’t mean that he wasn’t lurking in some dark recess of the house. You scout out all of the probable and improbable locations of his possible whereabouts. You even go as far as checking the roof. However, it’s what you don’t find in the parking lot that kicks your plan into high gear. His car. You stand in the doorway to your brother’s room and gloat. Your time is nigh sound pollution.

Confident that you are the lone soul in the apartment you enter your brother’s territory. See not so bad. You saunter over to his computer. His smuppet website main page is plastered across the screen. Smuppets obscenely gyrate their felt hips and wiggle their round fluff stuffed bottoms to the blaring infernal racket. And then it dawns on you, it’s the smuppet theme song, no wonder the tune shares nothing in common with your brother’s wicked beats. A flicker of yellow catches your eye. You see a smuppet lying on top of a pair of headphones on the floor. You follow the chord up to the computer and it all makes sense. The reason why you’ve never heard this song before is because your bro always had his headphones plugged in. The yellow smuppet must have fallen off of the desk and gravity took the headphones with it, in the process yanking the chord out of the headphone jack and waking you up. Brilliant deduction for your tired angst riddled brain. 

You pick the offending culprit up and examine it. A layer of smuppets coat nearly every surface in the apartment. However, this smuppet is different from all of the rainbow variety of felted abominations. Those mutated puppets had a hole where you could fit your arm into them so you could manipulate them with your hand like a traditional puppet. The hole between the fabric cheeks of this plush rump was smaller. Perhaps it was designed to be manipulated with fingers instead of a whole hand you muse. Curiosity gets the better of you as you stare at the hole. You tentatively press a finger in. The entrance gives in easily to your invading digit. Your fingertips are met with a surprise; you rub your finger around the rim of the hole. The smuppet isn’t lined with fabric. You push your finger deeper into the abyss and start to feel around. The lining doesn’t quite feel like a type of foam. You push another finger in to get a second opinion and continue exploring. Rubber? You push further into the soft enveloping tunnel. A grin spreads across your face. It’s silicone. You look at your fingers wedged into the small hole. You pull out and then reinsert with three fingers. They slide in with some resistance. You spread your fingers apart inside the silicone cave. Yeah it would fit you think. This isn’t just any smuppet. It’s a fuckppet. The banana yellow fabric bastard has a built in fleshlight and it’s… It’s what? You look at the bulge in the stomach of the smuppet caused by your fingers and then glanced down at the growing bulge in your boxers caused by fingering said smuppet. Were you really going to go through with this? You peek your head out of your bro’s room. The coast was clear. Yep. You creep out of your bro’s room with smuppet in hand and gently close the door. 

You stroll into your bedroom and close the door. A low chuckle escapes your lips as you stare down at the smuppet clutched in your hand. You look into its beady little eyes.

“Do you feel lucky? Well, do yah, Smuppet? You might not feel lucky smuppet but you’re gonna get lucky.”

For the past five years, ever since you learned the purpose of what dangled between your legs, you have only had Rosie palm and her five sisters to keep you and your little buddy company. But now, now it was time to spice up your solo down and dirty time, ironically of course. You didn’t have any lingering attachments to the felt bastards. You just wanted to fuck the ironic shit out of it. You wander over to your bed and dig through the pile of assorted clutter lying next to it. You whip out a tube of lotion. You park yourself on the edge of the bed and wiggle your boxers down till your half erect pride and joy pops out. 

“Ready to have some fun? Well I am.” 

You give your soldier a few tugs until he is standing at attention. Then you pour out a dollop of lotion into your palm and lather up your excitement. Friction is a good thing in moderation. The point of this exercise is to cum not to rub your dick raw. Once your cock is hard and slick to your exacting specifications you wipe off your hand on a random shirt and throw it into the hamper. No point in getting the smuppet dirty. At least not the outside. The inside, well you were going to fill that hot tunnel of love with your own lubricant soon. You hold onto the smuppet by the hips and spread the plush rump apart with your thumbs. You rub your tip against the entrance before gently lowering it onto your growing desire. The hole is slick and soft. You are met with just enough resistance to make you moan. You close your eyes and focus on the silicone cave enveloping your cock. You gingerly push the tunnel further onto you until you are up to the hilt. Damn this is good and you haven’t even started to move yet. You slide back into the middle of the bed and lay down. You shut your eyes again as you savor each stroke.  
In your haste to get your smuppet freak on you forget the original goal of your quest. You didn’t turn the volume down. Little did you know of the repercussions that unfortunate oversight would have. For if you had turned the volume down you would be aware of your impending doom. You open your eyes. Your hand freezes in mid stroke. You then visualize a hand lobbing a heaping clump of fecal matter into a high speed rotating bladed mechanism. Shit has hit the fan. Your brother is leaning up against the doorframe, his arms folded, his face expressionless. Your gaze is met by the impenetrable wall of his black shades. Blood rushes to your skin; you feel your cheeks get hotter as they turn the shade of your irises. You’ve been caught smuppet handed. 

“Good Morning Dave” he says his voice impassive.

“Morning” you squeak out.

He just caught his little brother plowing one of his smuppets and he still remains calm as a cucumber. Damn he’s cool. And fuck you’re screwed. You didn’t have to worry when bro was yelling. It was when he was silent, that’s when you know all hope is lost. Bro was being exceedingly silent. You accepted your fate. Seventeen years, it had been a good run, too bad it had to end. Time to prepare yourself to meet your doom. You do decide to keep the smuppet covering your erection. What’s the point in exposing yourself to your brother before you bite the big one? You wiggle your boxers up as far as they can go and scoot off of the bed. You avert your eyes away from your brother as you stand up.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom. After I get some clothes on I’ll meet you up on the roof.” 

The door creaks. You hear a click as it shuts. You shuffle over to the door with your head still bowed. You reach the door and reach out to open it. You glance up and notice your bro isn’t by the door. You slowly turn your head. He’s behind you. 

“Do you really think that I’m going to let you go that easily?” he asks as your hand grabs the doorknob. 

“We’re going to strife here?”

He shoves you up against the door. You ketch him removing his shades with one hand from the corner of your eye while he has you pinned up against the door with the other. 

“Strife?” Bro slithers up against you and firmly grabs the smuppet. “Not exactly” he breaths into your ear. 

He squeezes the smuppet, tightening its grip on you as he starts to grind up against you. The pressure around your cock causes you to wince. You hadn’t come before your brother’s interruption and now you could feel yourself hardening under that grip. A haze blankets your mind as he starts to slide the smuppet up and down your growing shaft. This is so wrong you think while he rubs his hard member against you. His free hand trails down your spine and comes to rest on a cheek. He nibbles your exposed shoulder working away from your arm braced against the door to your neck. Once he reaches his intended destination he presses his tongue against the base of your neck and slowly licks upwards. He gives your ass a squeeze before fondling it. You shiver as he synchs up his strokes with the smuppet and the movement of his hand on your ass. You can feel the tension ebb away as he sucks on your ear lobe. You moan. This is beyond wrong, but it feels so damn right.

He softly chuckles as he sees you melt into a puddle of goo against the door. He stops groping you and hooks a thumb into your boxers and eases them down, letting them drop around your ankles. You shiver at the rush of cool air. The smuppet stops traveling as you hear a rustling behind you. Both hands are now resting on your ass. You hiss as you feel a sharp pain on a cheek. He bit you. What the hell was he doing down there? You turn only to see your brother give the spot he bit a quick swipe with his tongue before sucking on it. Once satisfied with his hickey handiwork he grabs each cheek and spreads them apart.

“Bro?” a worried tone tinges your voice. 

His amber eyes stare up at you as his tongue brushes up against your hole. You tremble and lean against the door as his tongue outlines your hole. He presses his face further into the crevice between your cheeks and starts sucking. It was pointless trying to hold back any longer. You groan as his tongue flickers around the source of his attention. You gasp sharply as the tip of his tongue presses against your entrance. You shiver as the slick invader enters. Your own obscene noises add to the ones that he’s making. The volume of your moans increase as he continues to tongue fuck you. He returns to stroking you off with the smuppet. The heat inside of you builds up to from a slow burn. Each stroke of his hand and each flick of his tongue drive you closer to the edge. You cry out as your shudder spilling your cum into the plushie. 

He waits until you are finished before gently pulling the soaked felt disaster off you. He stands up and watches you pant while you rest against the door for a few moments. He plunges his fingers into the smuppet swirling them around coating them in your fluids. Once his fingers are thoroughly lubricated he tosses the used plaything aside. Bro returns to his previous position. He places his hands on your hips and pulls you backwards away from the door bending you over. One hand spreads you open as the wet fingers of the other rub up and down the crevice. The fingertips halt at your hole. One presses up against your entrance. You can’t help but gasp as bro’s finger enters you. You whimper as it explores the dark reaches. You have now become the smuppet. Karma’s a bastard that loves to play with your ass. Figures that your bro was an ass man. Your mental conversation with yourself is interrupted by another finger entering. 

Two fingers were now inside you, pushing deeper, opening you up. He was taking his damn sweet time. A fingertip brushed up against a particular section causing you to shiver. All of the sudden sex between men made a hell of a lot of sense as your brother rubbed the spot again with his fingers. 

“Oh fuck” you moaned.

Encouraged he slipped in a third finger and continued on in his mission. Once satisfied by his progress he gently drew his fingers out. You hear the sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric. His hands return to your hips as something hot and hard rubs against your ass. Startled you turn and look back at your bro. He slowly licks his top lip as he observes the object of his burning desire. He presses his tip against your hole. You moan as he enters. Over the sounds of your moaning you hear him say it in a throaty growl.

“This is Mine.”

He takes cues from your panting for when it was ok to burrow himself deeper into you and for when he needed to pause to allow you to get acclimated. The process is agonizingly slow. After what seems like a considerable amount of time has passed he is buried up to the hilt in you. The heat radiating from it is searing, heating you up to the core. You hear your bro groan as he starts to move inside of you. At first the thrusts are slow but as time progresses the tempo increases. You shiver as his tip brushes up against your sensitive spot. He takes notice of it and shifts slightly. Your panting becomes labored as he grinds himself up against that area repeatedly. His fingers dig into the side of your hips; you gasp and attempt to clutch at the door in vain for stability. He starts breathing heavily as he picks up the pace. You aren’t the only one getting close to boiling over. Your activity reaches a crescendo when he grabs your sides and gives you a few quick thrusts before he jerks coming inside of you. You cry out and orgasm as his fills you. 

He gingerly pulls himself out of you. You can feel a stream leak out of your hole and start to trickle down your leg as your bro pulls you over to the bed. You both flop down on you backs panting. The two of you lie there for several minutes before he turns his head to you. You stare into his brilliant amber eyes. He reaches out with one hand and ruffles your hair with his fingers. 

“Dave.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t touch my stuff.”


End file.
